The equerry hurried out of the door, and the old servant ran through another door which I had not observed, into an adjoining room, probably to pack up such things as were necessary for his master to take.
As the prince, who was pacing the room with unsteady steps, did not seem to notice that I was still there, I was about trying to slip away unperceived, when he suddenly stopped before me, and looking at me with an attempt to smile, said:
"Now see how hard it is for one in my position to become an orderly man. I am just about making the attempt, and I am called away in another direction. Now, farewell, and let me soon hear from you. Remember, you have my word, and I shall now probably need you more than ever. Farewell!"
He gave me his hand, which I pressed warmly.
Five minutes later, as I was going back on foot through the pine woods--I had declined the carriage which had been kept harnessed for me--I heard horses behind me. It was the young prince, with a groom following him. As he flew by me at full gallop, he waved his hand in friendly salutation, and in the next instant both riders had disappeared among the thick trunks and the trampling of their horses grew fainter and ceased to sound in the dim forest.
CHAPTER XVI.
The following day was unusually hot and close for the time of year. At sunrise gray storm-clouds had appeared in the east, and hung threatening in the horizon, while the sun in all his splendor was ascending the bright sky. I, who from childhood had always been peculiarly sensitive to atmospheric changes, felt uneasily the electric tension of the air. On my brow I had a sense of constant pressure, a singular disquiet agitated my nerves, and my blood seemed to course laboriously through my veins. To be sure these feelings of mine were not due to the weather alone.
Something else was in the air; something that gave me more uneasiness than the threatened storm, something that I could not define; the obscure feeling of the intolerable position in which I found myself here, and that in some way it must be brought to an end--if it had not come to an end already.
However that might be, I had time enough to-day to think it all over.
No one was here to disturb my reflections: Zehrendorf seemed uninhabited. The excursion to the Schlachtensee which had been arranged the day before, had been carried out at about ten o'clock, not without some trifling variations of the original programme. Whether it was because the last attempt to make a horsewoman of Fräulein Duff had failed so lamentably, or from some other reason, Hermine had given up her intention of going on horseback with her governess and Arthur, and the whole company had gone in three carriages. The steuerrath and the Born had also joined the party; which was another variation from the programme, introduced on account of the two Eleonoras, who had unanimously protested--they were always unanimous that they could not possibly share in an excursion to last the whole day, that was composed of young people only. The two dignitaries had vehemently resisted the honor proposed to them, but yielded at last, of course. How could they do otherwise? Not easily again would they find such another opportunity to forward their favorite scheme.